


...and many more

by maybeillride



Category: Free!
Genre: (sorta) - Freeform, A fresh look at Haru's parents, Based on Mako's 'free spirits' comment from the show, Birthday, Gen, Happy birthday Haruka, He's turning 7 here and man he's so very Haru..., Origin Story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-30
Updated: 2016-06-30
Packaged: 2018-07-19 06:05:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7348102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maybeillride/pseuds/maybeillride
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Haru is turning 7, and his parents hope he likes his last gift of the night.</p>
            </blockquote>





	...and many more

**Author's Note:**

  * For [brainindacloudz](https://archiveofourown.org/users/brainindacloudz/gifts), [ishka](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ishka/gifts), [Meatball](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Meatball/gifts).



> This is for the lovely and talented brainindacloudz, ishka and meatball b/c   
> 1) I owe them big-time for various fics & art (don't worry, payback still ongoing)  
> 2) they appreciate headcanons (and contradicting said headcanons)  
> 3) just because they're awesome!

Haruka’s father leans into his wife’s shoulder, as they sit comfortably side by side on the edge of the back porch. She pulls her gaze away from their son to look up at him inquiringly.

“Isn’t it funny, somehow you and I managed to raise a pyromaniac??” he says in mock-alarm, chuckling as he draws out a cigarette. Haruka has indeed been in some kind of altered practically blissful state since before the Tachibana boy had to go back home, since before his grandmother kissed him goodnight and went up to bed, not even minding when they told him it was too late to light the noisy firecrackers, crouching and watching black snake after black snake grow from nothing in a safe spot of dirt in the yard. He’d had a hurried conversation with his wife when he’d come home with the bag of firecrackers from the conbini, holding their voices carefully below the happy sounds of Haruka playing with his friend in the living room. Her eyes had been skeptical, her lips tight with worry; but he’d insisted. It wouldn’t be a birthday without firecrackers, now that their son was finally old enough to enjoy them.

She scoffs. “Oh, I think it’s pretty clear who gave Haruka _that_ particular gene.” She nods meaningfully at the lit cigarette in the corner of his mouth and he raises his hands in surrender.

“First one today, on my honor,” he promises, and she just turns to fit herself more comfortably into his side, facing out towards their only son where he’s gingerly holding one of the impossible ash-snakes in each hand and making them fight or kiss, it’s too hard to tell in the dusk.

There’s a long lull, his wife’s slow breaths moving them gently together and apart, a nightjar making an eerie call from someplace in the hedge. “I think he had a really good birthday today,” she finally says, softly like she’s reluctant to disturb the gentle calm they’re sharing together.

“Mmm,” he agrees, laying his cheek on the top of her head. They watch as Haruka’s luck finally runs out, the fragile ash snakes collapsing into dust in his little hands. But while another kid might cry, or even throw a tantrum, their oddly calm little boy just stands up solemnly and walks over to them, wiping his dirty hands on his shorts.

His wife immediately leans forward, sweeping him into her lap. He blinks slowly up at them, serious and happy, fatigue smeared across his little face.

“Those were pretty neat, baby,” she tells him, kissing his nose.

“They couldn’t stay here. They had to go back to their home planet,” Haruka says with total sincerity.

His wife bites her lip, and he knows she’s trying not to laugh. She nods to him once.

“Well, that’s my cue,” he tells Haruka in the theatrical voice he uses when they play Hide and Seek, stubbing his cigarette out and getting to his feet. He feels Haruka’s stare on his back as he slips through the door, stretching up to get one more gift from its hiding place on top of the bookcase.

Their little boy’s face is unexpectedly sad when he looks up from the package in his lap, paper cranes flying in multicolored formation across the paper’s pattern.

“…what’s wrong?” he asks.

“If I open it, my birthday is over.” His lower lip sticks out stubbornly, trembling with emotion Haruka rarely shows the world. “I don’t _wanna_ be seven. I want to stay six forever!”

His wife meets his eyes and it’s a funny thing: how is it possible to know _exactly_ what Haruka means, how he feels? He wishes he could push the pause button on their lives too. Stay here forever, stay _thirty_ forever, stay together forever, stay happy forever.

This time he’s the one to lean in for a kiss, leaving it gently on Haruka’s forehead, hot and sweaty and a little dirty from his busy birthday.

“You know what, honey?” he says quietly. “Your mom and I picked this out special and I think you’ll really like it. And tomorrow, I think you’ll want to try it out as soon as you wake up. Maybe Tachibana could even come over to try it too.”

“Makoto has to go to the dentist tomorrow.” But he can tell the storm has passed, the light sheen of tears standing forgotten in Haruka’s eyes, big with the wonder of the mystery in his hands waiting to be solved.

His mother nods down. “I think you two will have lots of time to use this together. Go ahead, Haruka!”

That’s all the reassurance he needs, attacking the gift in his queerly careful way, sliding his little pointer finger under each seal to break the tape and putting the paper to the side. He gazes down at the sketchpad and colored pencils like he’s just discovered a pirate’s buried treasure.

“It’s time that you had some real drawing materials,” he tells his son with pride. This gift was his idea; the refrigerator door flutters madly with crayoned images on scratch paper, of anything and everything that catches Haruka’s seeking eye. Some kids jump rope, some kids play tag; their boy draws, and more recently asks them to take him swimming as often as they can, doing both with an obsession that could mean real talent. It could just be another way their boy is different than the other kids in the neighborhood. But it puts a spark in his eye, and that matters more than what anyone might think of him.

Haruka looks up at them both, and he doesn’t say thank you, but he lifts the sketchpad and hugs it. His mother squeezes him in her hug until he’s squirming for freedom.

“Okay, kid, into the bath,” she tells him, and Haruka hops up, leading her into the house with his free hand like the tub has a magnetic pull on him. “Don’t stay up too late,” comes over her shoulder and then he hears the creaking of the old wooden staircase as they ascend.

He reaches automatically to the crimped pack in his breast pocket, and he sighs and drops his hand back to the deck. He leans back on his palms instead, eyes wide to take in the end-of-June sky. It’s gone full-dark while they gave Haruka his last gift, and he gazes up, counting the first stars of the night like he used to do when he was a boy.

**Author's Note:**

> I think I'm starting to like this kinder, gentler conception of Haru's parents. I still don't know WHAT the hell was behind that living situation-situation. But maybe they actually did their best with their challenging, intense little boy...? Thoughts?? ;D
> 
> THANK YOU SO MUCH for reading! <3


End file.
